Seated by the window, Hoshimori Shion gazed out, utterly bored.
A snow-white pigeon alighted briefly on the windowsill, its plumage dazzling against the vibrant sun and the expanse of the azure sky.
As Hoshimori Shion reached out a hand, the pigeon fluttered its wings and soared away.
She sighed, attempting to redirect her focus back to the lesson.
Ten seconds later, her attempt proved futile.
‘This is so boring,’ she thought, utterly unable to concentrate. ‘It seemed that no matter where, classes were equally impossible to absorb, the teacher’s words as incomprehensible as a chanted prayer.’
Hoshimori Shion flipped open her notebook, revealing the notes taken by the ‘previous’ Shion before the game began. A smile involuntarily touched her lips as she saw the pages filled with doodles, alongside elaborate calligraphy spelling out phrases like ‘So boring,’ ‘How does Hoshimori Ayane manage to study?’ and ‘What’s for lunch?’
‘Well, I suppose my lack of academic diligence doesn’t exactly ruin my character,’ she mused. ‘If anything, it just highlights how well my clingy, kitchen-averse sister manages to excel in her studies.’
“Ring, ring, ring~”
At long last, the dismissal bell rang. Hoshimori Shion let out a profound sigh of relief, stretching luxuriously in her seat. She had finally made it to lunch break.
It was truly excellent that the teacher hadn’t extended the lesson.
For today’s lunch break, she wouldn’t have to make the special trip to deliver lunch to her sister. She recalled how, in the preceding days, Hoshimori Ayane had asked her to bring a bento box, only to ‘forget’ it when they parted ways. Hoshimori Shion couldn’t help but wonder if her mischievous sister deliberately made her run an extra errand, simply so they could naturally end up eating lunch together in Hoshimori Ayane’s classroom. While Hoshimori Shion wasn’t particularly close with her own classmates, eating in another class always left her feeling utterly out of place.
“Hoshimori-san is here?” A somewhat familiar voice suddenly echoed from the doorway.
A vibrant streak of red hair appeared at the classroom entrance, instantly drawing the gaze of nearly every student in the room.
“Igarashi-senpai? She’s so beautiful…” Hoshimori Shion overheard a few girls beside her whispering. She looked towards the door, where Igarashi Rie stood poised, holding a bento box, peering into the classroom with a gentle smile gracing her features.
Only then did Hoshimori Shion truly take in Igarashi Rie’s appearance. Igarashi Rie was remarkably tall, easily half a head taller than Hoshimori Shion, who was of average height for girls. With her bright red hair cascading down and her delicate features, she was undeniably a great beauty, possessing an inherent aura of approachability.
“Hoshimori-san, Igarashi-senpai is looking for you!” a classmate by the door called directly to Hoshimori Shion.
“Coming!” Hoshimori Shion quickly rose and hurried towards the doorway.
“No need to rush,” Igarashi Rie said, offering a gentle smile. “Just step out for a moment.”
Hoshimori Shion nodded, and Igarashi Rie unexpectedly added, “Could you bring your bento? I’d like to eat lunch with you today.”
“Oh, oh, alright.” Hoshimori Shion wouldn’t dare refuse the protagonist’s request; this could very well be the genesis of a new story arc. She swiftly jogged back to her desk, grabbed her bento, and then hurried back out.
As she did so, she felt the gazes of many classmates, particularly the boys, laden with a mixture of envy and jealousy.
Hoshimori Shion swallowed, quickly averting her eyes from their stares, and fled the classroom.
A faint, sweet scent emanated from Igarashi Rie, a delicate fragrance that Hoshimori Shion couldn’t discern if it was perfume or simply the natural aroma of a young woman. Hoshimori Shion trailed half a step behind her. Due to their height difference, Igarashi Rie’s strides were naturally longer than Hoshimori Shion’s, yet Hoshimori Shion noticed she had deliberately slowed her pace to match.
“Igarashi… Senpai,” Hoshimori Shion began, a hint of curiosity in her voice, “how did you find me? I don’t recall ever telling you my name.”
“The miko of Hoshimori Shrine,” Igarashi Rie replied with a smile, “your surname was immediately apparent. This morning, after classes, I borrowed the student roster from the student council. There are only two girls with the surname Hoshimori in the entire school, both in the first year, leaving me with a simple choice between two. Fortunately, I found you on my first try.” As she spoke, she gracefully covered her mouth with her hand, an elegant gesture.
Hoshimori Shion nodded thoughtfully. “But my sister and I look almost identical,” she pointed out. “How did you recognize it was me at a glance, Senpai?”
Igarashi Rie paused, her gaze settling on Hoshimori Shion’s face.
Hoshimori Shion stopped as well, her cheeks flushing slightly under the intense scrutiny of such a beautiful girl.
Then, she observed Igarashi Rie’s gaze slowly descend, settling on her chest.
‘Damn it!’
‘I’m never asking that question again! This is utterly humiliating, utterly humiliating!’
‘That idiotic sister of mine can’t cook, can’t perform Kagura dances, yet how can her ‘oppai’ (TL Note: Japanese slang for breasts, often used playfully or suggestively) be so much bigger than mine? Are we even truly blood-related?’
As if sensing Hoshimori Shion’s internal monologue and her fierce mental assault on certain anatomical disparities, Igarashi Rie simply smiled. “Shall we go eat on the rooftop?” she suggested. “The view up there is quite lovely.”
‘The rooftop, huh…’ Hoshimori Shion’s mind drifted back to her experiences playing other dating simulation games (TL Note: ‘galgame’ is a Japanese portmanteau for ‘girl game,’ a genre of electronic game, often a visual novel, centered around interacting with attractive female characters). In those games, the rooftop was invariably the stage for significant events—either a heartfelt confession, a dramatic confrontation, or…
….
****
Igarashi Rie pushed open the rooftop door, and the cool summer breeze immediately swept over them, causing the girls’ skirts to flutter and dance.
Hoshimori Shion clutched her skirt, following Igarashi Rie onto the rooftop.
In fact, quite a number of students were already on the rooftop, eating their lunch. They were gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing merrily.
‘Well, it seems there won’t be any ‘fast-track’ storyline elements here,’ Hoshimori Shion thought, letting out a sigh of relief.
Igarashi Rie located a relatively open spot, then produced a picnic blanket from her bag, spread it on the ground, and sat down. From the same bag, she then retrieved what appeared to be a two-tiered bento box. No, ‘bento’ was an understatement; this was unequivocally a lavish feast, easily comparable to the elaborate meals Hoshimori Shion’s family would meticulously prepare for the Obon Festival (TL Note: A Japanese Buddhist custom to honor the spirits of one’s ancestors, usually involving family reunions and special meals).
Hoshimori Shion sat beside Igarashi Rie, her expression of utter shock completely unmasked.
Noticing the astonishment on Hoshimori Shion’s face, Igarashi Rie chuckled softly. “My family’s butler prepares my lunch every day,” she explained, “and it’s usually quite a large portion, more than I can finish on my own. If Hoshimori-san could help me out a little, I would be very grateful.”
Hoshimori Shion glanced down at her own bento box: two simple onigiri (TL Note: Japanese rice balls, often wrapped in nori seaweed), accompanied by a small bottle of soy sauce and a dab of wasabi. She was, in truth, quite averse to fuss. When preparing lunch in the mornings, she typically made her sister’s portion a bit more elaborate, perhaps adding a few pieces of meat inside the rice balls. For herself, merely filling her stomach was the goal, hence the simple onigiri. If she could eat something better, she certainly wouldn’t object…
Turning her gaze back to Igarashi Rie, Hoshimori Shion saw that both tiers of the lunchbox were now open and meticulously arranged. Inside lay generous cuts of crispy tonkatsu (TL Note: Japanese breaded and deep-fried pork cutlet), perfectly poached eggs, an assortment of seasonal vegetables, a small cluster of sweet cherries for dessert, several plump takoyaki (TL Note: Ball-shaped Japanese snack made of wheat flour batter and cooked in a special molded pan, usually filled with diced octopus), and delectable fried mentaiko (TL Note: Marinated pollock roe, a Japanese delicacy)…
“Hoshimori-san, would you like to wipe your mouth?” Igarashi Rie offered, extending a clean napkin as Hoshimori Shion’s mind momentarily short-circuited.
‘Ah, how embarrassing…’